The Hardest Thing
by DemonCatBeastie
Summary: Violence, language, shounen ai (shishi) Ash is forced into making a heartwrenching choice- love, or family? *NEW CHAPTER*
1. Chapter 1

THE HARDEST THING  
by DemonCatBeastie  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters nor the song I got this idea from. suing me will not  
get you anywhere, for I am seventeen and do not understand the legal system, much less  
have the money to pay you. Well, I suppose I might, but I need new shoes and that has  
priority over some dumb lawsuit. So ha.  
  
I trudged up to Professor Oak's house, dreading what I had to do so much that my  
stomach didn't have another direction to turn. My hands shook in my pockets, and I was  
sure that the color had fled from my face and skin in favor of cramming into my heart,  
forcing it to break. Breaking my own heart.  
Damn me to hell.  
This was going to hurt both of us. Gary, who had no idea what I was coming here  
for, and me, who knew I was doing this and wanted to do nothing more than turn around  
and run away. But I couldn't do that to him, not after all we'd been through, not without  
some sort of explanation.  
Even if the explanation was lame and the facade was clear as glass.  
I approached the door and knocked gently, knowing that he would be the only one  
awake at this hour, praying he couldn't hear it over the noise of the TV, that I could leave  
a note that explained everything and that I wouldn't have to confront him face to face.  
The door swung open, and he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me in.  
There was a blur of house lights and front hall, and then nothing but Gary's face in  
front of mine, eyes half closed as he leaned in to kiss me, and then I closed my eyes and  
gave in. I didn't want to give this up, not for the world, but somehow I didn't think Misty  
would appreciate having to share me with Gary.  
I don't know how long we were like that, but my brain eventually took over and  
made me force him off before I lost myself, before I changed my mind, before I suggested  
something ludicrous as a means of escape from my future.  
But I couldn't do that, and I knew it. I couldn't leave my mother behind, or my  
friends, for one person, even if he could have been the love of my life.   
"Gary... We can't see each other anymore. This has to stop."  
He looked at me, teasing expression melting to hurt confusion. "What do you  
mean? Why?"   
"You know why, Delia will kill both of us if she finds out. As much as she loves  
me, she's not gonna like me leaving my girlfri-" I stopped, sighed, raised my left hand to  
indicate the engagement ring "-my fiancee in favor of a guy."  
His eyes widened in shock, then he glared. "You proposed?" He looked ready to  
spit at me in disdain.  
"No, she did," I defended, "And with my mother standing in the next room doing a  
terrible job of pretending not to listen, I couldn't just say 'Sorry, Misty, it's not that I  
didn't have the initiative, really it's that I'm secretly meeting Gary for love romps all  
across the map', you know?" I sighed, leaning back against the door. "I can't believe the  
'out training' excuse lasted as long as it did..."  
Gary turned his back to me, obviously fuming. I scanned my brain for anything  
helpful to say, but nothing came.  
"Why don't we run off?" Gary suggested, but the tone in his voice told me he  
knew that it was a bad idea. "Go somewhere no one knows us. Leave this stupid little  
town and get far away. It couldn't be that hard..."  
"You know we can't do that, you're the only able-bodied person helping Professor  
Oak around here, and abandoning my mother is just cruel."  
"We could stay here, then, you could just lay low for a while, not go out during  
day light hours or something until Misty leaves and send a note to your mom telling her  
not to worry-"  
"Yeah, leave it up to Radio Mom to keep a secret like that, come on, Gary! As  
much as I wouldn't mind being locked in the bedroom all day, do you really think that's a  
good idea?" I was starting to sound a bit harsh, but I couldn't help it. As much as I cared  
for Gary, I couldn't be so irresponsible, not like this.  
Gary turned to face me, anger seeping from him in waves so hot I could feel it,  
eyes bright with tears he was desperately trying not to shed. "Don't you care about what  
we have at all?" He was striving not to shout, but I could tell he wanted to. "Forget that  
stupid girl! What do you need her for? You have me!"  
"Now you're sounding like a brat," I told him, hardening my expression. "Gary,  
this is not all about you, there are way more people involved in this, you know that!"  
He slapped me so hard I hit the floor. When I looked up, the tears were falling.  
"Why can't it be about just you and me? Why can't it be about us, forget those  
other people who would be so jealous of something so precious if they only knew about  
it?" His shoulders shook with contained rage and pain. I pulled myself to my feet, stared  
him in the eye, and slapped him right back. He staggered back, but didn't fall. I didn't  
have the heart to hit him as hard, or maybe he was stronger than me. I tried to ignore the  
surprise on his face as I told him "Nothing precious lasts forever, and you know just as  
well as I do that our families rely on us more than anything. You know they wouldn't  
accept this." That's when I realized I was crying, too.  
"How can you say that when you've got the same tears I do?!" Gary half-sobbed.   
"Shut up!" I snapped back, unable to think of something more intelligent.  
"Don't tell me to shut up, you moron!" He punched my shoulder hard. "Don't you  
dare come here and tell me to shut up!"  
"Don't hit me!" I shot back, punching forward and landing it on his ribs.   
"Fuck you!" His fist connected with my cheek, and then it turned into a real  
brawl. I kicked forward, hitting his thigh just above the knee, to which he responded with  
a supressed shriek of anger and launching forward towards my stomach, elbow first. I  
knotted up my stomach muscles, but it still hurt, and the impact threw me off balance and  
we hit the floor. The tile in the front hall was cold, but neither of us cared; we were too  
busy trying to draw blood. Teeth bit down into my shoulder. I grabbed his hair and pulled  
back and up, using my other hand to push his shoulder and flip him onto his back next to  
me, rolling on top of him with my knee at his groin and pinning his wrists next to his head.   
He shifted somehow, and the next thing I knew the positions were reversed; I had  
forgotten how fast he was. He rested his knees on the floor on either side of my waist, his  
feet between my legs, and he leaned back to pin me down completely.   
Both of us sat still, trying to catch our breaths.  
"Why are you doing this?" He asked softly, sobs still undertoning his words. Tears  
were still rolling freely. I turned my face away from his. I felt his body shake, and then  
felt him lean forward. I could see from the corner of my eye that his eyes were closed  
tightly, still trying to stop the tears, and brushed his cheek against mine. "Are you really  
trying to destroy both our lives?" He chuckled lightly through the pain lacing his voice.  
"Over her, of all people?" I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out the sensation of his  
breath on my neck, his lips brushing over skin. "Is this really what you want? What you  
need?"  
I considered trying to move, realized that I couldn't, not with him sitting on top of  
me like that. I heaved a sigh. He spoke again: "You never were good at being honest with  
your feelings..."  
I screwed my eyes shut tight, trying to block him out; all that did was make it  
easier to feel where he was, what he was doing, and all I wanted to do was give in.  
"I don't want her," I conceded finally, and I could feel the delight radiating off of  
him. "But I can't just say no, not now."   
"You would rather betray your lover and yourself in favor of preserving the  
feelings of a girl who would be happier with someone who could honestly love her?"  
"Shut up," I whispered, because I knew he was right and I knew I would hate  
myself later, and I could feel the tears building up again and all I wanted to do was run  
away where none of this people could touch me again-  
Lips against mine, hands releasing their grip on my wrists to caress my face and  
neck, and of their own accord my hands went to his waist and hair, oh that hair that had  
no sense of direction and seemed only to beckon for me to lose my fingers in it, lose  
myself in him and never want to be found, that smell that was purely his and that no stupid  
girl could ever replace.  
I cried good and hard, then.  
He stood up, wrapping his arms around my upper torso and lifting. "Let's go get  
cleaned up," he said, and I nodded. We would definitely be sharing the shower.  
* 


	2. Chapter 2

The Hardest Thing- Chapter 2  
By DemonCatBeastie  
Author's note: So I got some requests to do a sequel, and I didn't think much of it because I couldn't think of anything to do with it.  
Then, the other night, I did. Now I don't remember what it was, but at the time it was pretty cool.   
So here you go, all you who requested more; I hope you enjoy. ^_^  
It was so dark outside, and inside all the light in the room was coming from a black light that made stickers on the wall glow brightly. Ash could see the faint outline of Gary's face in the darkness, his eyes closed but not asleep. He brushed the tips of his fingers across the other boy's face, over the spot he'd hit earlier. He felt Gary twitch under the touch.  
"I'm sorry," He murmured, leaning forward and kissing it. "I shouldn't have done that."  
"It's all right," Gary said, voice just above a whisper. "I think I got you back. A lot harder, in fact." Ash felt Gary's fingers tracing over the swollen spot next to his eye. "And I should apologize; I acted like a child."  
Ash took a breath as if to say something, but nothing that made sense was coming to mind. He settled on "I love you."  
"I love you too."  
Everything was so peaceful, there in the darkness. That was the place where they always felt the safest; Gary's grandfather never came in here, and no visitors were allowed upstairs unless they were invited. Here was the place where they could be most honest with each other, the place where they exposed their hearts and souls and skin.  
Ash pulled himself close enough to kiss his lover's now snoozing form, and wondered- not for the first time- how it was that Gary could see things so simply, how he could not be afraid of what this would all mean for them later on, what it would mean if their families and loved ones found out. He couldn't understand the simplicity; further, he couldn't stay here and find out. The responsibilities now were on him- Gary wasn't about to let go for any reason, and with morning came the beginning of their problems.  
"Gary?" He whispered into the dark.   
"Hm?" came the sleep laden reply.   
"Doesn't this ever make you worried? Aren't you ever scared of what will happen to us when the others find out?"  
There was a long pause, and just as Ash was beginning to think Gary had fallen asleep on him, he murmured "I'm not afraid of what the future holds... Not as long as you're here with me. That's for tomorrow to worry over... Now, I've got you in my arms and that's all that matters."  
Ash didn't move for a moment after this last coherent moment of the evening from Gary, then snuggled in closer to rest his head against the other boy's chest and tried to swallow the tears.  
He knew what he was going to do next was going to be the most terrible thing he'd ever done in his life. 


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning and could feel- without moving- that Ash was gone. I rolled over to the side of the bed he'd been sleeping on and inhaled deeply. I smelled mostly the scent of my own shampoo and soap, which he'd used that night while we showered, but it was laced with a scent I recognized as purely his. His sweat, or maybe his breath, maybe both, I couldn't tell. I lay with my face pressed into the pillow until I couldn't smell it anymore.   
Finally sitting up, I got off the bed and resolved to go to his house and talk with him; surely, we could think of something, some way of being together without breaking any hearts. Part of me nagging to be heard insisted that it really was hopeless; the rest of me wasn't so sure, maybe even wanted to be shot down. Some people are meant to thrive on heartache; sometimes, I think I'm one of those people.  
I could see his footprints in the lush carpet scuffing to where his clothes had been placed, then out the door and down the hall. As I stared at the spots, the events of last night replayed in my mind- the shower, with the lights off and candles sitting on the corner of the sink dimming the atmosphere while we tended to each other's wounds, each of us feeling unspeakably guilty. Both of us were hiding tears in the water from the shower, sometimes begging forgiveness with kisses, othertimes taking comfort in the presence of the other, stomachs pressed together, feeling the other's heart beating out the pain. The bedroom, which the shower was thankfully en suite to; Grampa would doubtlessly not react well to a pair of boys in towels and little else trying to go from bathroom to bedroom while maintaining as much physical contact as possible. As it was, we stumbled more than walked to the bed, our limbs entangling, until we fell onto the blankets. Who had their way with who, I couldn't say.  
We'd said so much last night, in between bouts of love-making. "I'm sorry", "I love you," "I can't describe how you make me feel" spattered through out conversations about what my grampa would do if he caught us, what would Ash's mother say, what would Misty do, what if they accepted it, what would the rest of Pallet say, God why did all this have to hurt so much?   
He promised he would never fall out of love with me, no matter what happened. That's probably why I wasn't as outraged as I could've been that he left.   
I pulled on fresh clothes, carefully stepping around the foot prints Ash had left behind.  
As I stepped out of the house, I wondered what it would be like, someday, to step outside with him next to me. Into broad day light, hand in hand or arm in arm, and not care who saw us. The thought gave me fuel, and I began a brisk walk towards his house.  
As I stepped through the gate into his front yard, Misty came tearing out of the house and nearly collided with me.   
"Misty? Are you all right?" Months upon years of practice had taught me to act civilly and even friendly with the whore-bitch who would try to steal my Ash from me. As I said it, I flashed back to last night, when Ash told me they were engaged; I quickly thought of the peaceful feeling I got when I held him tightly, and that's what saved Misty from being immediately thrown to the ground.  
"Gary! Where's Ash? he said he was going over to your house last night and I swear I heard him come home early this morning but I might've been dreaming because he's not here and I don't know what to do..."  
She was babbling, but what I could dicern made my heart leap into my throat, then fall into my stomach.  
"Ash isn't here?" I asked, trying to keep the demanding edge off my voice. "Where's Delia?"   
"Inside," Misty said, and when I began to speed walk towards the house, she continued, "I was just going to your house to see if he'd stayed the night there. So he did leave last night?"  
"Yeah," I threw back, then began to form the lies. "We were watching a movie, after he told me the news and we talked for a while. Congratulations!"  
I pushed the door open, then flung it a little too forcefully closed behind me, hoping maybe that would stall Misty for a few moments.  
"Delia!?"  
"In the kitchen, dear!"  
I stepped into the kitchen to see Delia sitting at the table, looking out the window in a sad sort of thoughtfulness. "I could swear he came home this morning," she sighed, "but he must've left or something. Gary, do you think maybe I pushed him too hard this time? I was just trying to hurry him along, he's always been so bad at initiative..."  
I tried to say something, but nothing helpful came to mind. Instead, I just sat down across the table from her, folded my hands together, and rested them in front of my mouth, trying to calm down enough to think.  
Misty stepped in a moment later, and to my smug and completely internal pleasure, she was rubbing her forehead where the door must have hit her. She looked at Delia, then looked at me, sat down in resignation and burst into tears.  
She'd never seemed like the dramatically emotional type, excluding her sometimes violent treatment of anything male. I almost felt sorry for her, if it weren't that a part of me wanted to do as she was doing, break down and cry and have Delia comfort me.  
Instead, I stood up quickly and went up to Ash's room, leaving the two women to talk.  
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, sitting down on the bed and looking around for any sort of clue. The room was neat and clean, the bed was made, the collections of pokémon related junk covered every spare piece of furniture. I sighed, and closed my eyes.  
The hours before I fell asleep swam behind my eyelids, a confused swirl of pain and frustration and love and desperation burning holes through my heart. It was like someone had taken all the memories, jammed them in a blender, and set it on liquefy.   
Then I thought, 'God, where is he?' and broke down into tears.  
I probably sat there for an hour, maybe even two. I cried, calmed down, thought too long, then cried some more in a cycle that felt never ending. Everything he'd said spun in circles in my mind, and I searched desperately for clues as to what happened. Nothing came.   
When I went back downstairs, Delia and Misty had left, leaving a note on the table saying they'd gone to get groceries and ask around for anyone who may have seen Ash. I crumpled the note and threw it in the trash, opening the fridge as if looking for something and ended up just wasting energy.  
When they returned home, I helped them unload the grocery bags. I noticed an increase in the amount of chocolate purchased- at least one grocery bag was dedicated to carrying chocolate products, from cookies to candy. I didn't ask, but offered to start some easy- to- bake cookies for the three of us. Delia pointed me to the cookie sheets.   
Three hours later found us sitting around the living room, pretending to watch TV and periodically checking the clocks and asking "has anyone checked with Brock? Maybe he went to tell him" or "Has anyone asked Tracey?", running through the list of even the most obscure names of people Ash may have up and decided to contact about the engagement. I didn't say it, but I knew we were all thinking the same thing: He could've just as easily called those people, or at least told us what he was doing.  
Misty finally went to bed, leaving Delia and myself to sit in relative silence. We were desperately trying to be entertained by whatever stupid cartoon was on when she said, "Gary... I'm certain he came home this morning."  
I glanced at her, unsure of what to say. Delia had easily been the calmest about everything that happened behind a facade of vacancy; now I was afraid she'd become mentally unsettled.  
"I think you mentioned that earlier," I said carefully.  
"In fact," she added, voice still lilting, "I'm absolutely positive." She turned her head towards me, and I faultered under her gaze. Tears were building around her eyes. "Gary, what did I do? I did something wrong, I know it..."  
I almost said something consoling, something like "It's all right, you didn't do anything," but my voice snagged on something I hadn't thought of earlier.  
His room had been immaculately clean.  
Ash's room was never clean. He never made his bed, he never picked his dirty socks and underwear off the floor unless he was going to wash it, and he never got all of it, his collections of junk were never organized.  
Delia must've seen my expression change. "What's wrong?" she asked, but I was already standing and running for the stairs up to Ash's room.  
I shoved the door open and froze in the door frame. Everything was spotless. The bed sheets were even put on straight. I opened the drawers- all that was left were clothes items I knew he was either too small for or would never wear, some small pieces of memorabilia from childhood, and little else. I opened his closet- his favorite sneakers were gone, along with his spare shoes for when his sneakers finally gave out. I looked to his shelf where he kept all his Pokémon, all his traveling things- it was bare.  
"Gary?" Delia's voice called up the stairs. I heard her step into the room behind me, then turned to face her.  
"He came home," I said, voice quavering. "He was here..."   
Tears blurred my vision, and I tried to turn away before Delia could see, sitting on the bed and facing away from her. Delia stood still for several minutes, then closed the door on the hallway, sitting down next to me. I felt her hand rest between my shoulder blades.  
"He didn't tell you he was going to do this?" she asked softly. I could hear her own tears building in her voice.  
"No, he didn't tell me anything." I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.  
Delia fell silent again and maintained it for another several minutes before whispering, "Some people do things without warning because they don't want to hurt the ones they love the most."  
I didn't say anything at first, then realized what she'd said. I turned my gaze on her, and saw her expression tell me everything I needed to know.  
"You..."  
"I know," she said, nodding. Her dark eyes were wide, tears falling now, and a small part of me suddenly understood what it meant to be a mother. "I didn't think he would leave... I hoped he would choose instead of run..." She smothered a sob. "I'm sorry, this is my fault..."  
"I should be sorry, too," I conceded, trying to swallow back my own pain. "I didn't just let him break it off... That's why he came over last night, to break up. I didn't let him. He wanted to make you and Misty happy, and he couldn't because I wouldn't let him..." I smiled wanly. "See? He cares about you two more."  
Delia shuddered from suppressed sobs, and said "but he should've cared more about himself."  
I didn't know how to argue with that. 


End file.
